"There is nothing to fear from the dead. It's the living we should fear."

I live in a bordertown in the desert southwest, and I've come to realize that this place, and so many others like it, may share a flag and some other surface similarities with adjacent communities, but like cities and towns on both sides of the fence, this ain't the US of A, and it ain't old Mexico, either. It's La Frontera, the border, and it's a world unto itself.

Cultural assumptions about how people should or could behave go out the window after a short time here. And I can't help but soak up some of the lifestyle and the attitude, in the same way the people of Mexico's borderland have absorbed the attributes (bueno y malo) of us "norte americanos." Each November since my migration to this place, I've attended displays of altars in honor of "Dia de los Muertos" (Day of the Dead). And it was jarring at first, those smiling skulls, and the food set out as some kind of offering. But after thinking upon it, and considering it's origins (Catholic with a hint of Mayan, in a country that emerged from a history awash in blood and death), and it's attributes, I think it's probably a healthier attitude than most.

And that cross-cultural shift? I also saw some of that here at Halloween, with scores of muchachos y muchachas at our door, though some didn't quite seem to get the 'routine' or custom-- I had more than a few wearing no costume whatsoever, yet with pillowcase (candy bag) in hand. For reference, it's better to man the candy bowl and distribute the treats individually. Otherwise, you're inclined to chastize repeatedly, "Solamente uno, por favor!"